Brother
by bonusvampirus
Summary: "Rose had been a big sister for three days, and she didn't like it."


Title: Brother  
Summary: "Rose had been a big sister for three days, and she didn't like it."  
Rating: T for character death  
Word Count: 1033  
Other Chapters: No.  
Disclaimer: The British Broadcasting Corporation owns Doctor Who and all related trademarks. I do not in any way profit from the use of these trademarks.  
Pairings: discussion of Pete/Jackie; discussion of Rose/Doctor.  
Contains: children  
Warnings: character death

* * *

"Do you want to hold him?"

"If I hold him, what's the nanny for?"

"Rose, he's your brother! You've got to pay some attention to him _sometime_!"

Rose glanced at the screaming bundle in her mother's arms and sighed. "Well, not right now. I'm tired, okay?"

Jackie rolled her eyes and walked away.

Rose had been a big sister for three days, and she didn't like it. There was something about the whole situation that was still leaving her vaguely unsettled. Her mother was married again. To her father? Pete Tyler was her father. She knew that. But she also knew that _this_ Pete Tyler was a man from another world; a man who had stepped out of her childhood dreams and rescued Rose and her mum just when Rose had finally stopped feeling like she needed rescuing. This wasn't the loveable fuck-up that Rose had actually helped Rose's mother conceive her. This wasn't the man whom Rose had known for just a day, the day he died. This was a wealthy, powerful man who loved having a family and showered them with all the attention and goods they needed. He was her father, but also he wasn't.

This baby was her brother. Her one and only, and _he'd_ never been in any of those childhood fantasies. She wasn't even sure if he was her half-brother or her full-brother. Sort of both, she supposed.

She didn't have any right to be unhappy. She knew that. She'd been away from the Doctor for a year now and everyone was losing patience with her for still sulking and plotting to find a way back to him, and Tony was three days old and had never done a thing to Rose. In fact, maybe _she'd_done something to _him_. Maybe in this alternate world, Tony was the child that Pete and Jackie Tyler were meant to have. Maybe Rose was supposed to be the dog, but she'd had to go and turn into a human and steal half of Tony's fortune away from him like the chav she was. He was cute enough now, when he was sleeping, but in fourteen years he'd probably be bitter. That was how this lot was, wasn't it?

God. Born in a mansion. That was nothing like the start that Rose had got. He'd go to the best schools, too. He'd get his A-levels. Rose had never dreamed of landing a job half as good as the one she had with Torchwood. She was good at it too, but she was the boss' daughter. (They'd done their best to put down the rumors that her father had grown her and her mother in a lab after the death of the _real_ Jackie Tyler, but their efforts had only been somewhat-successful.) Nothing about her life had worked out the way she'd thought it would. It was better in some ways. Most ways. Worse, really, only in the gaping hole in her chest that the Doctor couldn't fill from another universe.

If she could, she'd trade everything that was right to fix the one thing that was wrong. She wanted to see her Doctor again. She needed to know that he was safe. She'd even like to see Jack again, though the need wasn't as pressing because she knew, without being entirely certain _how_ she knew, that Jack _was_ safe, and would always be safe, just as she wanted him. She couldn't quite remember what she'd done after opening the heart of the TARDIS, but she knew that she'd saved Jack, and made sure that he would stay safe for a very long time.

She couldn't.

She'd been spending a lot of time over in Mickey's part of the mansion lately. Rita-Anne (She wouldn't let Rose call her "Mrs. Smith." She'd said Rose was too old for that. She hadn't known Rose as a child.) didn't have much time left, despite the best doctors that Rose's father could find for her, but you wouldn't know that from talking to her. Sometimes, if Rose closed her eyes and listened to Rita-Anne tell stories about her childhood, it _almost_ felt like nothing had changed. She could be seventeen again and back at the Powell Estate. She wasn't sure how much she liked that feeling, but it felt _normal_. Hanging out in a mansion with her father and baby brother, as wonderful as it should have been, did not feel normal.

Mickey was better. He listened to his gran now. And he had a good job with Torchwood that he liked going to, and he was sweet. He listened to Rose now. The things he'd seen and done with Jake—Jake himself—those things had changed him. Rose had barely known Jake herself, and his funeral had been hard. Mickey had been torn up about it for months, and Rose could see why. He'd changed Mickey. For the better.

Better Mickey. Living dad. Happier mother with a new baby in her arms.

She'd be so happy if her Doctor were here. Without him, it all just felt empty.

She watched her mother carry Tony around the room. He was fussy. Rose didn't know how to handle fussy babies. She'd never liked babies. They were crying, pooping, whiny little messes. Even if the Doctor had wanted one—

She wouldn't have, would she? She'd always told herself that she'd never, but she'd never talked about it with _him_. It didn't matter now,, she supposed.

She wasn't jealous of her parents, was she?

The idea seemed a little absurd, but on the other hand... They had their happy family because Rose didn't have hers. Their family wouldn't have been complete without Rose. Rose's family wasn't complete without the Doctor. Someone had to lose, and her parents had made sure it was her. Maybe...

Maybe _she_ was bitter, and vilifying a newborn because he dared to cry sometimes and she assumed he'd be moderately annoying in a decade and a half. She blushed as she looked at him. He was looking up at her mother, not at her, but she felt as if something had changed between them, and she was glad that it had changed so soon.


End file.
